


Breaking the Ice

by always_bias_wrecked



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, Bucky Barnes-centric, Bucky and reader haven't been laid in a long time, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Not Captain America: The Winter Soldier Compliant, Oral Sex, Pre-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Rough Sex, Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-04-30 06:24:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14490786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/always_bias_wrecked/pseuds/always_bias_wrecked
Summary: You can't help but find Bucky Barnes fascinating, turns out the feelings are mutual.





	Breaking the Ice

**Author's Note:**

> I know this account has been all kpop up until now but, i think about Bucky Barnes and Steve Rodgers all the time so ... expect more fics like this lol.  
> I hope you like it???  
> 

You watch sunlight catch on the smooth surface of the metal, shifting and dancing across the grooves and curves of mimicked muscle as Bucky’s arm swings. 

It’s a hard thing for you to wrap your brain around. A foreign, manufactured arm, something that shouldn’t be a piece of him yet moves like a piece of him. There’s no lag or minor setbacks in fact he reacts better than most. Once you had seen him asleep on the couch, watched his fingers twitch as the metal arm mimicked muscle spasms those sometimes get in their sleep. 

It utterly fascinates you.

He fascinates you. 

“Head out of the clouds doll,” Bucky calls over to you, pushing you out of your thoughts as the man he’s just hit tumbles to the ground. 

You feel your face go warm as his lips barely twist into a smirk and you quickly turn away, moving for the now unguarded doorway. 

“Don’t call me that,” you huff under your breath.

Your voice is barely audible over the crunching snow beneath your feet, but you know he can still hear you. You’ve been made very aware of just how acute his heightened hearing is. 

“It’s a habit,” he shrugs. 

“Barnes and I have reached the entrance, we’re going in,” you speak into your earpiece as you and Bucky take a place on either side of the doorway. 

“Copy, we’ve cleared the perimeter, call if you need backup,” Steve responds before softly adding. “Be careful.” 

You glance over at Bucky, meeting his now somber gaze and giving a sharp nod as you repeat. “Copy.” 

The man easily kicks the door down, entering the dark building first and you follow suit, raising your pistol. It’s so dark you can hardly see, using Bucky’s footsteps to guide you through the dark rooms. He pauses motioning up ahead to a barely open door that has a faint blue glow coming from behind it. You nod, both of you moving quickly but silently forward. 

You press your back to the wall, peaking through the opening of the door. It’s just another room, lined with computer screens someone hadn’t bothered to turn off. But it looks empty as far as you can tell.

Bucky waits for your nod before slowly pushing the door open. Both of you step cautiously into the room, giving it a quick look over before you slip the pistol back into the holster against your thigh and move for one of the computers.

“I should be able to get the database uploaded from here,” you tell him as your fingers move deftly over the screen. 

Bucky quickly relays the message before adding. “Steve, something doesn’t seem right, this place is completely dead. It doesn’t make sense to have that many people guarding an empty building.” 

“Done,” you breathe into your earpiece as you straighten from the computer, turning back to Bucky. 

“Copy. Get out of there,” Steve responds, a tight urgency in his voice that makes your heart skip what feels like a few beats.

“Copy,” Bucky repeats before the two of you bolt, sprinting back through the empty rooms. 

There’s a flash, and just enough time for you to shout. “Barnes!” 

He turns, his eyes wide as they meet yours as he reaches for you, and then you are both falling.

There’s a weird crack and a sharp pain erupts through your shoulder as you hit the ground and you bite back a scream, rolling onto your back to find your left arm now completely immobile. 

“Barnes?” You wheeze.

It’s now definitely too dark for you to see him. But then you hear a muffled cough not far from you, along with fabric shifting against the ground.

“I’m fine,” he says. “The hell was that?”

“Trip wire probably,” you grunt. “We must have missed it on the way in.”

“Are you hurt?” He asks, his voice soft and very close.

“I think I dislocated my shoulder,” you tell him and there’s a long stretch of silence before you hear him looking for something. 

A diffused light suddenly fills the small space and you can see again. Bucky sets the light down before moving over to your side, helping you sit up so your back is flat against the wall. 

He has a few scrapes, there’s blood and dirt on his face but other than that he looks ok. He doesn’t touch you with his metal hand, you notice, keeping it at his side while he uses the other to gently feel at your shoulder to see how bad it is. He presses his palm flat against it, steely eyes meeting your as he asks. “Do you trust me?” 

You nod, closing your eyes as he uses his hand and the wall to push your shoulder back into place. You bite down hard on your teeth, letting out a sigh once you feel it pop back into socket. Bucky quickly moves his hand away from you, watching you experimentally roll your shoulder and lift your arm in different positions.

“Thanks,” you offer but he isn’t looking at you anymore, and he just gives a stiff nod in response.

“Let’s get out of here,” he pushes himself upright, helping you to your feet.

He picks up the small flashlight, giving each wall a quick look over before pointing to one and saying. “I can get us up there. Get on my back.”

“What?” You blink at him and he turns to meet your gaze. 

“I can climb it easily, but even if you can move your arm those muscles are weak now. It’ll be faster if I just carry you,” he says simply, and you reach up, tenderly feeling at your left shoulder.

“Right, ok,” you nod.

He turns back around, crouching slightly so it’s easier for you to wrap your arms around his neck and hook your legs around his waist. He straightens back up and you press yourself closer to his back. 

The muscles in your shoulder are starting to spasm as he climbs, and you let your arm fall loose at your side, keeping your grip on him with just your right arm. But thankfully there’s plenty of him for you to hold on to. You can feel the muscles in his arm and back shifting and straining even through the thick material of his combat gear. You watch his left arm as he climbs though, the way the metal plates shift and move to allow the same mobility muscle and skin would allow. You gently reach up, placing your finger tips lightly against the metal and are surprised to find it isn’t cold or hot. Does it simulate human body temperature as well? 

You quickly let your hand fall back to your side, the thought occurring to you he might also be able to feel through that arm. 

As soon as he’s back on ground you set yourself back on your feet, quickly putting a short distance between you. “Let’s go.”

Once you’re back outside you reach up to speak into your earpiece. “Barnes and I are out of the building. Heading towards you.”

“Copy. We heard an explosion, are you hurt?” There’s worry in Steve’s voice and you glance over at Bucky. 

The blood is now mostly dried on his face and there are a few bruises, but you’ve seen him in worse condition. “A few scrapes but we’re alright.”

“Good,” there’s instant relief in Steve’s voice that makes Bucky smile. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

“Copy.”

The two of you walk in silence for a while, the pain from your shoulder starting to creep up your neck and into your head.

“Barnes,” you start, and he quickly turns to look at you before gently cutting you off.

“You don’t have to keep calling me Barnes, I mean we do live next to each other,” there’s a slight smile in his voice and you don’t know why it makes you feel so flustered.

“Fine, James-”

“Oh no, the only one who called me James was my mother,” now he’s definitely smiling, and you fight the urge to look over at him. “It’s Bucky, just Bucky.”

“Bucky,” you start, finally looking over at him to find him with an amused grin on his face and you feel yourself flush. “Thank you, for back there.” 

“Don’t mention it,” he turns to face forward again, a faint smile still on his lips.

______________________________________________________________________________

It’s training day. More specifically, sparring. 

You had already gone up against Peter who was now sitting to the side with a bloody nose. You had tried to apologize but he had repeatedly insisted ‘it’s cool’ before going to find a cloth to hold under his nose. You hadn’t meant to hit him in the face, but the kid was everywhere. He had run right into one of your kicks, very abruptly ending your sparing match.

Now you’re standing across from Natasha, but the two of you are so evenly matched it’s usually too long of a fight for either one of you to ever win. You’d each landed a few blows, you’ve got a busted lip and bruised rib, she’s most likely got more than a couple bruises on her sides.

You Natasha and Clint have the most in common out of all the Avengers. You aren’t super soldiers or gods, you don’t have any special suits or powers, you’re just meticulously trained and highly efficient assassins. But it also gave you a sort of immediate connection with the two of them, and for that you are grateful. 

Steve calls time once the fight has gone over fifteen minutes. You and Nat briefly clasping hands before Steve glances down at his list and says. “Buck, you’re up.”

You turn to face Bucky, his expression one of slight surprise. He casts Steve a quick look before stepping up to take Natasha’s place across from you. You both offer a curt nod to one another, waiting for Steve’s. “Go.”

You can tell he’s going easy on you right from the beginning. He only uses his metal arm to block your blows but not to throw any of his own, and he’s not moving nearly as fast as you know he’s capable of. He only moves himself fast enough to avoid your blows. You know how easily he could overpower you, know how easy it would be for him to win and how much harder you should have to be fighting. You feel a sudden rush of annoyance and push yourself harder. If you fight harder, he’ll have to fight back harder right? 

There’s a bruise forming on the side of your right wrist from all the blows he’s blocked with his left arm, you can feel the ache starting to work into your fingers. His brows are lowered, his lips pressed tightly together as the two of you grapple, swinging and dodging, swinging and blocking. He brings his left arm down to block one of your blows and you catch his wrist, his eyes widening as you push yourself off the ground, twisting your body as you wrap your legs around his head. The force flings his body face down against the mat and you roll into a crouch, turning on your knee so you’re once again facing him. 

“Time,” Steve calls and you blink, straightening up as you turn to face the blonde, but he just shakes his head. “Bucky, Sam, you’re up.”

Your frustration continues to grow as you watch him fight the others. He isn’t pulling his punches or holding back on anyone else like he had with you. Did he think you couldn’t take it? Did he think you were weaker than the others? You feel a sudden flash of fury burning through your chest, and maybe it’s irrational, but all the training and everything you’d been through to become the fighter you are was not done so some guy could go easy on you because he didn’t think you could take it. Especially not Bucky.

You scramble to your feet, following after Bucky once Steve commends you on a job well done and dismisses you all. 

“Barnes!” You shout after him, catching him alone in the hallway.

He quickly pauses, turning to face you as he watches you approach. He’s got a faint bruise on the left side of his face from when he had hit the mat, but you know it’ll most likely be gone in the morning. “I thought I already told you not to call me that.”

“Why’d you go easy on me today?” You ask once you’re only a few feet in front of him and his features twist into a slight scowl. 

“I fought everyone the same,” he says slowly.

“No, you didn’t, you were defensive with me, and you were pulling your punches. Steve could tell too, it’s why he called the fight,” you cross your arms over your chest and he sighs. “Why?”

“Because I’m not like you. I’m not normal,” he almost whispers, looking down at his left hand as he curls it into a fist. “It would have been too easy for me to hurt you.”

“Then why didn’t you?” The words come out sharper than you had meant for them to and he looks slightly startled as his eyes flicker back to yours. You understand what he means but at the same time it makes you angry, to have him treat you like something fragile. “I expect you to fight like you mean it next time Sergeant Barnes.”

You turn, walking away from him before he has the chance to respond.

__________________________________________________________________________

Another one of Bucky’s nightmares had woken you up. But this time you couldn’t go back to sleep, you just kept hearing his whimpers muffled through the wall over and over again in your head. You always wonder what he has nightmares about, sometimes he screams, sometimes he swears, sometimes he just cries. 

Feeling restless you push yourself out of bed, stepping outside your door and into the kitchen and living room area you share with Bucky, Steve, and Wanda. 

You were planning on getting a glass of water, but you freeze when you spot Bucky’s unmistakable frame hunched over on the couch, taking a long drink straight from a bottle of vodka.

You slowly move over to him, lowering yourself so you’re sitting next to him on the couch.

“It sucks,” he breaths, eyeing the now half empty bottle of vodka with disdain. “Doesn’t matter how much I drink, I can never get drunk.”

“Another nightmare?” You coax the bottle from his hand, setting it on the coffee table across from you. 

He nods. “Did I wake you up?”

“Yeah, but it’s ok. I have nightmares too sometimes,” you admit.

“I know,” he says, staring down at his hands as he goes on. “You talk in your sleep sometimes, I can hear you through the wall.” 

You feel your face go warm, desperately trying to recount any of the past dreams you had that might have lead you to say something weird. You sit, unsure what to say as you stare at him, watching his fingers weave together. 

“It’s usually just one or two clear words with a lot of mumbling,” he looks over at you as he speaks. “What are they about?”

“Usually people dying, people I could have saved but I wasn’t fast or strong enough to. People I’ve already killed who come back to ask why,” you answer honestly. When you turn back to him he’s holding the bottle of vodka out to you with a kind of sad smile and you laugh softly before accepting the bottle and taking a quick gulp. “What about you?” 

“They’re similar to yours. They get tangled up sometimes, the people I care about become the people I’ve killed and the ones who,” his voice tightens, his hands curling into fists as he stares blankly ahead of him. “And the ones who made me this, they taunt me, tell me I’ll always belong to them, I’ll always be this. I’ll always be a monster.”

“You’re not a monster Bucky,” you place the bottle down on the table and gently lay your hand against his metal forearm and he stiffens. “The people who did those things to you, the people who made you kill, they’re the monsters.” 

“How can you say that? How are you so sure?” The moonlight coming through the windows reflects off his steely blue eyes, making them almost glow in the darkness.

“Because I’ve done things just as bad as you, but there was no one in my head making me do them,” you pull your hand away from his arm, setting it back in your lap, trying to swallow around the lump in your throat. “So, if you’re a monster, what am I?” 

“What made you turn around?” He asks, his voice still soft.

“I saw Nat on the news. Knowing what she had come from and what she had done, and then seeing her as part of the Avengers … It made me feel like maybe it wasn’t too late, I could still get out, even if it was just once I could finally try fighting for the right team,” when you finally look back up at him his expression is completely unreadable. “I guess all of us here have some unclean hands. Except maybe Peter.” 

Bucky chuckles, pushing a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” 

His eyes land on your hands folded in your lap and he reaches out, carefully lifting your bruised right hand in his nonmetal one. “Is this from earlier?”

You nod as he gently runs his thumb over the bruised skin. His palm his hot against your skin and you can feel all the calluses on his hand against the soft skin of your wrist. You feel a warmth spread from your chest up to your cheeks, even though it’s a light touch it feels oddly intimate. 

“You never touch me with your left hand,” you think aloud, and the soft, monotonous motion of his thumb stops.

“I try not to touch anyone with it,” he lets go of your hand to watch his own as the metal fingers curl into a fist. “I always thought it would make people uncomfortable, why would anyone want to be touched by this.” 

You hesitantly reach out, running your fingers over the smooth metal plates, feeling the grooves that allowed the metal to shift to mimic the flexibility and elasticity of flesh. He takes a deep breath as your touch moves down his forearm to his palm, taking his hand in yours, just to see what it feels like. 

“Can you feel with this arm?” You ask, brushing your thumb against the insides of his fingers.

“Yes,” he nearly whispers. 

You take his hand in both of yours before you can lose the courage, raising it just enough for you to press your lips against his fingers. He gapes at you, looking slightly startled and you realize his cheeks have gone pink. 

“It’s still a part of you, anyone who cares about you wouldn’t mind,” you lower his hand, letting your touch linger for just another moment longer before pulling away. 

He just stares at you for what feels like a long time, pale eyes flickering over your face as he struggles to get his thoughts in order. He takes a long breath in through his teeth before pushing his dark hair out of his face. 

“Do you trust me?” He whispers, his eyes locked on yours as he waits.

You nod, a question beginning to form on your lips quickly wiped away as his mouth comes down against yours. He tastes like vodka and smells like shampoo, and his lips are soft and warm and before you’ve fully realized it you’re kissing him back. His hand comes up to rest against your cheek as your lips mold together and you try to remember the last time you had been kissed. It seems like a lifetime ago with Bucky touching you, pulling you closer. He’s burning, a heat radiating off his skin so intense it’s almost suffocating as his tongue pushes past your parted lips. A small moan slips from your throat as he bites at your lower lip and he suddenly pulls away. 

“Sorry,” he breathes, sounding winded as he turns away from you, leaving you slightly bewildered. “I um … I haven’t been with anybody since I…”

“I get it,” you clear your throat, trying to gather yourself despite your heart pounding against the inside of your chest. “It’s been a while for me too.” 

He glances back over at you from the corner of his eye. “How long is a while?”

You frown down at your hands as you nervously wring them. “Maybe, five years?” 

He stares over at you in surprise and you shrug, waving a hand dismissively. “I’ve had a lot going on.” 

“Yeah,” he nodded before shaking his head and asking incredulously. “Five years?”

You take another long swallow of vodka before setting the bottle back down and turning to face him. “You interested in bringing it back down to zero Sergeant Barnes?”

________________________________________________________________________

You groan as your back collides with the wall, Bucky quickly swallowing up the sound as his mouth crashes back down against yours. His fingers curl tightly into your thighs which are wrapped around his waist, pinning your body between his and the wall. 

Bucky’s mouth moves across your cheek, down to your neck, biting and sucking at the skin in a way that has you squirming. You pant, curling your fingers in his hair as you try to bite back the sounds threatening to escape your throat. Steve’s room is only two walls away, and the thought of him hearing you get fucked by his best friend is mortifying. 

But it’s hard to keep your head level when everything is happening so quickly. The two of you are ravenous and messy, tugging at one another like drowning men in an attempt to bring the other closer.

Bucky tugs your shirt over your head, his hands exploring your now bare torso as he runs his tongue up the side of your neck, biting at the shell of your ear and you whimper. 

“I’ve thought about this since the day I first saw you,” he growls into your ear as his hand curls around your breast, teasing and twisting your nipple into a hardened peak and then pinching the sensitive flesh making you gasp. “How good you would feel, how good you would sound, how good you would taste.”

He sets you back down on your shaky legs and pushes your shorts and underwear down your legs. He places one more long, hungry kiss on your lips before dropping onto his knees. Your chest is heaving, body struggling so much to keep up with everything that’s happening that you can’t help the low moan that escapes you as Bucky throws one of your thighs over his shoulder, pushing his tongue through your folds. 

“Shit, Bucky,” you curl your fingers in his hair, letting your head fall back against the wall as your leg struggles to support your weight. 

He hums against you, fingers curling into your ass as he simultaneously tries to pull you and push himself closer. He flattens his tongue against you, starting by teasing at your entrance and moving up to rub against your clit. 

You nearly shout, him holding you up the only thing keeping you on the ground as his lips curl around the sensitive bundle of nerves and begin sucking. You cover your mouth as you nearly scream as the tension in your core pulls tighter. Curling your fingers back into his hair you give a soft tug and he lets out a sort of low growl. His hand slides up the back of your thigh, over the curve of your ass before placing a quick smack against your backside. The sharp sting makes you moan, body reflexively pushing away from his hand and closer to his mouth. His metal fingers curl harder into your thigh thrown over his shoulder as he rubs his tongue hard and slow against you. 

“Oh, so good, I’m so close, Bucky,” you whine as that warm, curling tension in your core becomes unbearable, the muscles in your thighs and stomach beginning to spasm. 

He smirks up at you from between your legs and god, that is definitely the most erotic thing you’ve ever seen. 

He closes his eyes, sucking once more at your clit and the tension snaps. Your body finally gives out, every muscle spasming as a high, tight sound pulls from your throat and you tug hard on Bucky’s hair. 

He catches you before you can slide to the floor, pinning your body flat between his and the wall and you can feel how hard he is against your stomach. His hands gently smooth your hair from your face as you try to catch your breath, his lips coming down to meet yours once he feels your body start to relax again. 

“Jesus, Bucky,” you whisper once you’ve caught your breath, his mouth once more latched onto your neck. 

He chuckles against your skin, pulling back to look down at you and there’s a mischievous glint in his eyes as he runs his tongue obscenely over his lips. “Doll, I could do that all day.”

“Good to know,” the words leave you almost like a wheeze, your face burning as he grins wolfishly down at you. 

He lifts you easily, carrying you over to the bed and setting you down on the mattress. He reaches for the hem of his shirt and then pauses, suddenly looking uncertain as he meets your gaze.

“My arm,” he starts, reaching up to place a hand over his shoulder. “There are scars, where the skin meets metal.”

You crawl towards him, stopping once you’re knelt in front of him and you reach out to curl your fingers into the fabric of his shirt and pull him closer. “Bucky it’s ok.”

He hesitates for another moment before pulling the shirt over his head and letting it fall to the ground. You reach out, pulling him into you and he pushes you back into the mattress. You tuck his hair behind his ears as he kisses you, tongues moving together as his hands trace your body. You let your own hands run over his chest, his back, his shoulder and his arms, pausing and digging your fingers into his skin when you feel a hand between your legs.

“Damn, you’re so wet,” he breathes, teasing at your entrance with his index finger and you squirm, biting hard on your lip. 

“I know, are you going to fuck me or not?” You had meant the words to come out sharp but instead they just sound airy and needy and he chuckles. 

He pushes his sweatpants off his hips, kicking them the rest of the way off before settling between your legs. 

“If that’s what you want, doll,” he grins, teasing the head of his cock against your entrance before pushing into you. 

“Oh fuck, Bucky,” you gasp clinging to him as he slowly pushes into you, stretching and filling you in a way you’ve definitely never experienced before. 

“Hey, you ok?” His voice is tight, his grip tightening on you as he struggles not to move, but the concern takes over when he feels you starting to tremble beneath him. 

You nod, but he leans down, placing soft kisses across your face and shoulders until your body relaxes. His lips come down to yours, muffling the moan that slips from you as he pulls out and slowly pushes back in. You reach up, curling your fingers into his back as he repeats the action, each time a bit faster until he’s thrusting into you at a steady, hard pace that has your eyes rolling back and obscene sounds spilling from your lips. 

Each thrust of his hips has that pressure building again in your lower stomach and you’re not sure how much longer you’ll last. You squeeze your eyes shut, pressing you head back into the mattress as you pant and gasp and try not to scream through clenched teeth. 

“You like that? Does it feel good?” He grunts down at you, cupping your face in one hand while the other curls into your shoulder, holding you in place as his hips snap into you at a pace that definitely doesn’t seem human. 

“Y-yes, you feel s-so good. D-don’t stop,” your words come out broken and hiccupy, punctuated by his thrusts. You reach up curling your fingers into the hair at the base of his neck, desperate for something to hold on to as your second climax quickly approaches.

He presses his face back into your neck, low growls and grunts slipping through his teeth as he nips and sucks at the skin. You’re sure you’ll be covered in bruises and marks tomorrow but right now you really don’t care, he could do whatever the hell he wants and you would probably thank him for it. 

You feel the muscles in your thighs starting to spasm again, your back arching off the bed as a few more rough thrusts have you tumbling over the edge. You press a hand over your mouth but you’re not sure how well it actually muffles the choked scream that pulls from your chest. 

He stills inside you, peppering your face with kisses and smoothing his fingers carefully through your hair as you try to catch your breath, your body still tense and hypersensitive as you come back down from your high.

“I don’t know how to tell you this,” he starts, taking a deep breath. “But I’m not even close … it’s a side effect of the serum.”

You laugh breathlessly, reaching up to push his long hair back from his face, twisting a couple pieces around your fingers. “So, you can’t get drunk, you’re insanely strong, and can fuck for hours on end.” 

“That about sums it up,” he nods and the two of you laugh. He leans down so is forehead rests lightly against yours and you find his metal hand, intertwining your fingers as he kisses you again, long and slow, and sensual in a way the earlier mess of kisses hadn’t been. 

“You’re going to be the death of me Sergeant Barnes,” you sigh, and he grins down at you, his hands sliding up to your wrists to pin your hands above your head.

“I don’t know about that,” he leans down, pressing his lips to your ear as he whispers. “But I can promise you’re going to have hell of a time trying to walk tomorrow, doll.”


End file.
